Dead Man Walking in DC
by Alkeni
Summary: Sequel to "Dead Man Walking". A dead Marine with strange symbols carved into him. Gibbs gets the case - only to have it stolen out from under him by Wesley and Lilah, Agents of the IWC. To save time, the IWC agents are forced to work with NCIS and keep the supernatural a secret from the NCIS team. ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own: Angel the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, NCIS or Highlander the Series

This fic takes place Post BtVS Season 7/Angel Season 4, and sometime during NCIS seasons 4-5. Pretend the years work out together. Move BtVS/Angel forward, and NCIS Backwards some, and then boom, they fit.

This fic is a sequel to my earlier fic, "Dead Man Walking", an Angel/Buffy/Highlander Crossover. It requires no knowledge of the show Highlander or any of the movies to understand – anything Highlander specific is explained in-fic. However, if you do not wish to go back and read that earlier fic (which I highly recommend you do), I will summarize "Dead Man Walking" for you now.

-Spoiler Alert for people who intend to go back and read "Dead Man Walking". Do not read past this point yet-

In the Show Highlander, there are beings known as 'Immortals'. They appear to be nothing more than normal humans, save that they cannot die short of their head being cut off – not permanently. If they are injured or 'killed' in a way other than their head being completely severed from their body, then they will heal, or 'come back to life' quite quickly. When/if one Immortal kills another by cutting off their head, they get that killed immortals power. Wesley, upon being 'killed' by Justine when he get his throat slit, comes back to life and finds out that he is an immortal. Lilah also turns out to be an immortal. Various collateral changes happen in Angel Season 4 because of this, including Wesley and Lilah having a stronger relationship, Jasmine being essentially exorcised from Cordelia before being 'born' and the AI crew, plus Lilah, going over to Sunnydale to help Buffy v.s. The First. In the end, Wesley and Lilah become 'At Large' agents for the rebuilding International Watchers Council (IWC), which is of course being led by Giles and the other Scoobies. One of the things Wesley and Lilah handle, then is liaising between various Federal Agencies and the IWC – to make sure that said federal agencies, when supernatural-related cases hit their radar, don't stumble into the secret.

-End Spoiler Alert-

Dead Man Walking in D.C.

By Alkeni

Chapter 1: The IW What?

**NCIS Headquarters, Washington D.C.**

**May 28th, 2005**

"-An unnamed source in the United States Geological Survey has told us at ZNN that contrary to official claims from both the White House and the Department of the Interior, there is no evidence of any seismic disturbances that caused the collapse of Sunnydale last week. According to the source, quote: "Its as if one moment Sunnydale is there, without any sign of any sort of seismic event impending, and then the next moment, the entire city is collapsing into the ground. There was no sinkhole underneath that city until the one that's there now."

"That's ridiculous." Ziva said, nodding at the TV, playing the news at a fairly low volume. "Why would Sunnydale have fallen into the ground like that if there was no cause?"

"I don't know, Ziva." Tony said, looking across the bullpen at her. "Maybe a top-secret government project went wrong, and created the sinkhole." He didn't sound like he believed, nor look like it.

"Sounds like something out of a James Bond movie." McGee said, looking up from his computer. "A _bad_ James Bond movie."

"No such thing McCommunist." Tony replied. "Every James Bond movie is a-"

"Does James Bond have anything to do with our case, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, walking into the bullpen, his usual cup of coffee in hand.

"Nothing, Boss." Tony said quickly.

"Then stop talking about him." Gibbs replied sharply. He walked around to stand behind his desk and took a sip of his coffee. "Well?" He asked, looking around at his team. "What do you got?" As if asking the obvious.

Hurriedly, Tony stood up and clicked a button on his computer. A head-shot of a marine went up on the plasma, along with a copy of the man's files. "Our victim is Marine Lance Corporal Joseph Montroy, twenty-five years old. His unit just came back form a tour in Iraq and they're on a thirty-day leave. He's on the 9th day. Left the base soon as he could, hasn't checked into the barracks. His record's pretty clean, and notes from his COs are broadly speaking, complimentary." Another click, and one part of the image cut away and was zoomed in on. "There is one notable spot on the record. Six months ago, he was busted down to Lance Corporal for insubordination."

Ziva picked things up from there. "He has no family in the D.C. area but he does have a fiance, Emily Larson. She lives off-base, apartment, and he was staying with her during his leave. She's on her way here now."

"Do we know why he was in that alley?" Gibbs demanded. "Or where is car is?"

"No, and...no." McGee said, then hurried forward, getting past the answers he knew Gibbs didn't want. "The symbols carved into Lance Corporal Montroy's forehead look like they're cuneiform." McGee looked up to see blank looks on the faces of Ziva, Gibbs and Tony.

"Cuneiform, McGeek?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.

McGee sighed a little, then explained. "Cuneiform is the writing system of ancient Mesopotamia. You know, Sumeria, Babylon, Assyria. That sort of thing."

"You think ancient Mesopotamians killed our marine?" Gibbs looked at McGee pointedly.

"Well...no Boss." He replied "But the killer obviously put it there for a reason. I have a friend from college I still keep in contact with. She's an archeologist-linguist, specializing in ancient Mesopotamian . I could send her a picture of the symbols and see what she has to say."

"Do it." Gibbs nodded, then turned to Ziva. Tell me when the fiance -" Before Gibbs could finish his thought, Director Sheppard's voice came from the landing above, on the upper floor.

"Gibbs." She said. "My office. Now." Gibbs set his coffee down and went over to and then up the stairs, not moving with any real haste. Jenny Sheppard didn't even sigh. She was well used to it, by now.

Once they were in her office, Gibbs closed the door behind him and Jenny sat in her desk. "What?" Gibbs asked.

"Have you ever heard of an organization known as the IWC?" She asked, looking right at him.

"No." Gibbs answered, his tone adding 'why should I care and where is this going?'

"Neither did I, until an hour ago, when I got a call from the President."

"How's he doing?" Gibbs asked, as if the President and he were casual friends.

"I didn't stop to ask. But he did order me to hand your current case – Lance Corporal Joseph Montroy – over to this 'IWC'. Its their jurisdiction."

"A dead marine is NCIS jurisdiction." Gibbs countered. "What is the IWC, and how is this theirs?"

"I asked, and I was told that it was classified, and that we don't need to know. And when the President of the United States calls and tells you the case is in someone else's jurisdiction, it's is in their jurisdiction. It's not exactly something you can argue with the man."

"So we just hand it over to them?" Gibbs said. Not that he was going to just hand it over quietly. This was _his_ case.

"Yes. In a little less than an hour, two agents of the IWC will be arriving to take control of the case. I was told their names are Lilah Morgan and Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. When they arrive, you are to hand everything you've found out so far over to them, and have nothing more to do with this case."

"I'm not going to do that." Gibbs replied. "Not without explanation."

"Whose name is on that door, Jethro?" Jenny asked, nodding to the door in question.

"Yours. Which means this is your problem, not mine."

"It says Director on my door, and you don't even have a door." Jenny pointed out. "We both know that for all your attitude, I'm in charge of this agency, and I decide what happens. There are people in at least a dozen Federal agencies and entities that are chomping at the bit to have you fired. Don't give me any reason to appease them." She emphasized that last part.

Gibbs didn't say anything, just leaving the Director's office. Once he was back down in the bullpen, "I want to know everything you can about the IWC."

"What does that stand for?" McGee asked, primed and ready to check on the network.

"I have no idea, and neither does the Director. But they've just been given jurisdiction over our case." McGee set to typing information into his computer. Something came up quickly. "IWC. Its a British non-profit organization, dealing in," he kept going, sounding confused, "antiquities, primarily. Headquarters in London, at least four hundred years old..." His voice trailed off.

"You think antiquities dealers are being given our case? Keep looking!"

"I don't think they _are_ antiquities dealers, Boss." McGee said. "Given that someone blew up their London headquarters in November, and until about a month and a half ago, members of the IWC kept turning up dead." He put up a video on the plasma. "This was captured by a street camera in London. Someone leaked it onto the internet a few days later.

The video showed a stately-looking, Victorian era building, several stories high, rising over London streets. Then, flames flew out as the windows exploded from within, and the building started to crumble. The video ended. "As far as I can tell, the case is still open. The organization, or what's left it, appears to be led now by a man named Rupert Giles. Arrived in the States a little over seven years ago on a Green Card with the IWC as his employer. I can't find anything else on him, except for a California drivers license," McGee put that up, displaying a picture of a stately-looking man, graying hair, wearing glasses and what looked like, from what little they could see in the license photo, tweed. "And...according to ICE, he flew back to England this morning from L.A."

"That's a lot of firepower for a bunch of antiquities dealers. What do they really do?"

"Whatever they want." Ziva said in reply.

"You know them?" Gibbs turned to face the Mossad liaison.

"Only in passing." Ziva admitted. "I have never dealt with them in any way, but they have had dealings with Mossad, and I've heard things."

"Well?" Gibbs demanded.

"Whatever it is that the IWC handles, it is worldwide. They have agreements with many – maybe even most – governments that allows them to handle whatever it is without interference from local authorities in any way. Including Israel, and the United States. When they decide that something is their concern, people start getting phone calls from their superiors, and cases and events, and situations and the like just vanish. They have close ties to the British government, and most of their operatives are British. And, generally speaking, they tend not to use firearms."

"So...what does that tell us? All I'm getting is more questions."

Gibbs didn't shrug, but the look on his face was much the same. "Ziva, can you find out more?"

"I shall make some calls." She said. Gibbs nodded, then turned back to McGee. "The IWC agents coming here are named Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and Lilah Morgan." McGee started typing those into his computer. Soon after, two California drivers licenses come up onto the screen of the plasma, one showing a man wearing glasses, the other a woman with long brown hair.

"Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. British National. Born 1970, arrived in the States in February of 2001, on a Green Card provided by the IWC. He was fired by the IWC in late May that same year, but they didn't revoke his card. After that, he resurfaces in L.A...where he was later the primary suspect in the murder of an LAPD detective, Kate Lockley, until it turned out that Detective Lockley wasn't dead, and he was cleared of all charges." McGee's program got another hit. "The LA Times and various local tabloids has him...dating Virginia Bryce, some kind of wealthy heiress, for several months, before he vanishes off the pages." McGee kept checking. "And that is all that I can find on him, at least for now. I'll keep looking."

McGee pressed more keys and the plasma zoomed in on Lilah's license. "Lilah Morgan. American Citizen, natural born. Born in 1971, graduated from Mortonson University School of Law in 1996 with high honors. Went to work for the law firm Wolfram and Hart-"

"Wolfram and Hart?" Tony said, nearly doing a spit-take with his drink.

"Yea." McGee said. "Wolfram and Hart."

"Something you want to share with the rest of us, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"Wolfram and Hart. Really nasty. They have a policy of defending the worst dirtbags, and they almost always win. They've been investigated for witness tampering, jury tampering, extortion, blackmail, hiring assassins to kill troublemakers...you name it Wolfram and Hart has its hands in it." Tony rarely spoke quite so seriously. "Baltimore PD, Metro PD...they all have to deal with their D.C. office here." He smiled. "They're evil lawyers." And back to normal.

"We'll, she's not with Wolfram and Hart now. She resigned a little over a month and a half ago...after the entire L.A. branch where she worked was destroyed in some kind of...event. Right after the raid of meteors over in L.A. and right before the eclipse." He typed in more keys into the computer. "As far as I can tell, she's the only person who worked at the L.A. branch that is still alive."

"Who the hell _are_ these people?!" Gibbs asked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** It is not mine. Not Buffy/Angel, not Highlander, not NCIS

Dead Man Walking In D.C.

By Alkeni

Chapter 2: Our Case, Agent Gibbs

**NCIS Headquarters, Washington D.C.**

**May 28th, 2005**

"We've got fifteen minutes before these people get here," Gibbs said, "I want answers. What do you got?"

Tony spoke first. "I called an old friend from Baltimore PD who transferred to the LAPD a few years ago. Said the name Wesley Wyndam-Pryce sounded familiar, so he did a little quick digging. About seven months before Wesley was investigated for the murder of Detective Lockley, he was...well, tortured by one Faith Lehane. " A prison record photo of a pale teenager with an almost...strung-out-on-drugs look on her face was up on the plasma. "According to the full confession she made – which included two murders and a whole bunch of assault counts as well – she beat him up, cut on him with broken glass, and was getting ready to torch him using a can of non-stick spray and a lighter wand. Then she was stopped by a private detective named 'Angel'. No last name. Angel was apparently instrumental in convincing Lehane to turn herself in."

He kept going. A security camera photo of a black-haired man went up on the plasma. "This is Angel. No known last name. Private detective, ran – still runs, as far as I can tell – a Private Detective agency called 'Angel Investigations'. At the time of the torture by Lehane, Wyndam-Pryce was an employee of Angel Investigations, alongside this woman." A California driver's license of a tanned young woman with black hair went on the screen. "Cordelia Chase. Born in Sunnydale California – where both murders committed by Lehane happened – and moved to L.A. after graduating High School. Her parents were obscenely wealthy, but lost everything after an IRS audit found out her father, a David Chase, had been cheating on his taxes for twelve years. They skipped town just ahead of the arrest warrant. Suspected of hiding out in Brazil, living on money in a Swiss Bank Account."

"And here's where it gets interesting. And weird. This Angel character was known around the precinct where Lockley worked as a guy who worked with Lockley on the 'weird cases'. According to my friend, they were nicknamed Mulder and Scully by the time Lockley was eventually discharged. And this Angel Investigations apparently liked to stick its thumb in the eye of the Los Angeles Branch of Wolfram and Hart. Helped keep witnesses out of their grubby lawyer mitts, screwed up a PR charity event, and possibly even physically intimidated several of their lawyers, on the part of 'Angel'."

McGee picked up from there. "In addition to being treated for the torture by Lehane, He was hospitalized after the original Angel Investigations offices were blown up a month or so later. The case is cold, no suspects. According to the reports, Wolfram and Hart was suspected, but no one had any proof to make it stick. He was later hospitalized for over a week in February of 2003 for a gunshot wound to the stomach. The investigation is still cold. At some point, he also ended up being the head of Angel Investigations for over a year. He was hospital yet again in April 2004 for being slashed across the throat by a knife. Again, cold case. The doctors called his survival and recovery a 'miracle', and said that he should not have been able to recover his ability to speak anywhere nearly as well as he did. And there is an incident report for when he was in the hospital that time. A man whose description matches that of this 'Angel' tried to smother him with a pillow before orderlies managed to pull him away. Wyndam-Pryce insisted that no charges be pressed. It is at that point that Wyndam-Pryce stopped being in charge of Angel Investigations and this Angel took charge again. And after that, there's not much I can find in the system on him, until this." He pressed some keys and an image of three individuals, two women, one man, walking out through an opened prison gate. One was Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, one was Lilah Morgan, and one was Faith Lehane.

"Okay, so she tortures him, and he walks her out of prison? What the hell?" Tony looked completely lost.

"It's more than that Tony." McGee said. "Lilah Morgan, in her last act before leaving Wolfram and Hart, arranged for the Governor of California to release Faith by commuting her sentence to time served. And the people who went to pick her up from prison were indeed Wyndam-Pryce and Morgan."

"Time served?" Gibbs demanded. "She had a life sentence, and no chance of parole for 25 years."

"The Governor of California does have the authority to do that." McGee pointed out.

"Keep digging, both of you. And what about what happened to Wolfram and Hart before Morgan left?"

"Nothing." McGee said. "I mean, literally, nothing. No police investigation, nothing from any Federal agency, not even any insurance investigation on the building, or life insurance policies on anyone who died there. And, Wolfram and Hart has already rebuilt the L.A. office." He keyed in some more commands, and an image of the new, improved Wolfram and Hart Los Angeles office. "They're fully restaffed, and back in business. Oh, and Faith Lehane is now working for, or at least with, Angel Investigations." He said. "My program just found that hit." He explained.

"So what do we actually know?" Gibbs demanded.

"That Wyndam-Pryce has a habit of ending up in the hospital, and that he used to work with a group that opposed the group his partner used to work with?" McGee offered.

"That he apparently colluded on the release from prison of a woman who tortured him?" Tony added.

"So absolutely nothing, in other words." Gibbs said.

"Not nothing, but not much to go on, Boss." Tony said, then, "I'll keep digging." Gibbs turned back to Ziva.

"The IWC. What did you find out?" Ziva put down her phone, hanging it up.

"Very little." She said, biting back her frustration. "Most of my contacts pleaded ignorance, hung up the phone, or refused to talk. I did find out a few things, though. IWC stands for International Watchers Council, though what exactly it is they watch is still unclear to me. They are willing to pay obscene amounts of money for rare texts and scrolls, and have some sort of authority from most governments to oversee, as they choose, almost any archeological excavation as well."

"The IWC is also quite hereditary. Most members have parents who are members, and virtually all children of members join the organization. Their children all go to the same boarding school before going on to higher education. One of the casualties at the bombing of the IWC headquarters was Roger Wyndam-Pryce. One of the people I talked to expressed surprise that anyone could stop working for Wolfram and Hart, and even more surprise that someone who had worked for Wolfram and Hart would go on to work for the IWC. Then he refused to elaborate on the subject any further."

There was a ding from McGee's computer. "Boss?" The man drew attention to himself carefully. "I just heard back from my archeologist friend. She says that the writing on our victim's forehead is..." He read the next bit of the e-mail with incredulity, "the name of an obscure and minor Assyrian death god known as-"

McGee was interrupted by a voice with a British accent. Its owner was coming towards them from the elevators. "The Blood King. Patron of, among other things, Assyrian resistance to Hammurabi and his successors." Gibbs turned to face the new arrivals. In addition to the man with the British accent, there was also a woman. Their images were indeed on the plasma.

"Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and Lilah Morgan?" He asked tersely. "Come to take my case?"

Wesley nodded. "If need be."

"Though we were," Lilah added, "hoping to have a more amicable working relationship. We don't mind allowing NCIS to continue to stay part of the investigation, as long as they understand that we are indeed in charge of this investigation. This is the IWC's area of expertise."

"And how exactly is it your area of expertise? And how did you know about what the writing on Lance Corporal Montroy said?"

"Because, among other things, Agent Gibbs," Wesley replied, "I am fluent in all forms of cuneiform. And the very fact that the Blood King's name that was carved onto the forehead of your dead marine is the reason that we are here."

"What does-?" Ziva started.

"That is need to know." Lilah said. "And I'm afraid you don't need to know." Then she nodded to the plasma. "And you've been doing research into us, I see."

"We have." Gibbs said, unapologetic. "I don't like losing my cases. Especially not to people and organizations that I've never heard of before. And speaking of research, how did you arrange for the release of Lehane from prison? And why did you let out a woman that tortured you?" He addressed the second question to Wesley.

"Miss Lehane was once an asset of the IWC." Wesley replied. "Indeed, overseeing her was the reason I was dispatched to the United States in the first place. Obviously, I failed miserably, which resulted in my firing, and being stranded in the United States with no money to fly back to England, but that part is neither here nor there. Eventually, Miss Lehane saw the error of her ways and turned herself in." There was a slight smirk as he said that, as if he was in on a joke that the NCIS agents weren't. "Later, situations were such that Faith's talents were necessary to deal with a significant problem."

"And I was already planning to defect, as it were, from Wolfram and Hart. Using their letterhead to arrange for Faith's release was as much a fuck you to my former employers as anything else." Lilah added. She looked around the room. "And we really shouldn't be talking about this where anyone could hear."

"Why not?" Tony asked, sarcastic ichor dripping from his lips. "Its not as if you're giving us any meaningful information. Just more questions."

"Exactly. That is exactly how it works." Wesley said, smirking. "The IWC runs on being mysterious. It can be annoying, but it is ever so fun to be the mysterious one for a change."

"This is all some kind of game to you?" Gibbs demanded, angrily. "I've got a dead marine, and you're talking about the fun of being mysterious?!"

"My life is my work, Agent Gibbs. I take my enjoyment where I can get it. Whereas you take it by building boats in your basement drinking bourbon alone." Wesley shot back. "But speaking of your dead marine, let's handle that rather than engaging in jurisdictional pissing contests. By the agreements between the United States Government and the IWC, this case is IWC jurisdiction. For a variety of reasons, including, let's face it, manpower shortages, the IWC is willing to have a joint investigation. But this is still _our_ case. NCIS is not capable of closing this case. I know you don't believe me, but its true." He extended his hand to Gibbs.

"It is our case, Agent Gibbs. But I'm willing to offer you a part in helping this marine's family and loved ones find peace."

Gibbs eyed Wesley's hand for a moment, then nodded. He didn't shake Wesley's hand, which the IWC agent lowered. "Tell me about this Blood King, then, and what the hell is name is doing, written in a dead language, on the forehead of a dead marine."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I do not own NCIS, Highlander or Angel the Series

I have no good excuse for this delay and the shortness of the chapter. Call it a combination of real life factors: School, getting back into a game I used to play that is fun, but a time sink and then a bit of writer's block thrown in for good measure.

Dead Man Walking in D.C.

By Alkeni

Chapter 3: The Blood King

"There isn't that much to tell." Wesley replied. "Unless you want a chapter and verse dissertation on the Blood King throughout history. The relevance of which to our present situation is very real, but I doubt that's what you want to know."

Lilah cut in before Wesley could continue. "Long story short: Thousands of years ago, according to the legend, an Assyrian Sorcerer summoned the Blood King from some other dimension to destroy Babylon. Instead, Babylonian sorcerers sealed him away in another dimension, where he has long sought to break out of and destroy and/or remake the world. His cult has cropped up repeatedly in history, in amazingly disparate places. They seek, in theory, to free him, and then rule over the new world he builds. What this means in practice is that they kill. A lot. Blood Sacrifice is believed to be very powerful. And they take their rituals very seriously. Deadly so, as you can see from you dead marine."

"A thousands of years old cult killed my marine? What the hell are you-" Gibbs started. This made no sense at all. "How would they still be around!?"

"They aren't." Wesley supplied.

Gibbs, had he been any other man, would have clenched his fist and ground his teeth. As it was, he just gave them his best death glare.

"Sorry," Wesley replied cooly. "You haven't killed enough people for a glare like that to bother me." Lilah chuckled at that, and also seemed completely unfazed.

"The cult died out in ancient times, but at various points in history, people have 'rediscovered' it, and something about the Cult has attracted the deranged and the desperate. The IWC had been hoping that the Cult of the Blood King was dead for good this time, but apparently, it isn't." That was a lie, Wesley knew. And he could tell from the look on Gibb's face that he knew that it was.

_Absolutely lovely._ Of course the Council hadn't 'hoped' the cult was dead, because they'd known it wasn't. The vampires and demons that made up the majority of the Cult were still very much around.

Fortunately, it seemed Gibbs was filing away the fact that he lid, rather than confronting him about it. "Whoever the murderer is – and let us hope that it is only one lone madman rather than some sort of group – he will kill again. Once a follower of the Blood King begins killing, he doesn't stop until whatever dark ritual he thinks he is performing is complete."

"How would someone find out about this Blood King? I mean, how much information is there about...him-"

"It." Lilah corrected.

"About it, then." Ziva finished.

"He's a fairly obscure piece of information from Ancient Mesopotamia in archeological and historical circles, but in occult – especially these days – circles, he is more well known, albeit hardly mainstream, as much as the word 'mainstream' can be applied to occult circles, anyway."

Tony's phone rang and he picked it up. After a few brief moments, he hung up. "Boss, the victim's fiance is on her way to the conference room."

Gibbs nodded. "McGee, go down and see if Abby needs anything." Then he headed for the stairs, turning back to Lilah and Wesley. "Ya coming?"

Wesley shrugged. "Alright."

"I'll go with Agent McGee to see what Ms. Scuito has." Lilah said. She followed McGee to the elevator.

Lilah raised an eyebrow bemusedly when she entered the lab, hearing the music plating and the tattooed...goth, _She is far, far too happy looking to be a proper goth._ Lilah thought to herself.

She turned around, holding a gigantic plastic soda cup, drinking happily from. "Who are you?" She looked at Lilah.

"Abby, this is," McGee started. Lilah interrupted him and held her hand out.

"I'm Lilah Morgan. I believed we talked on the phone once, several years ago, when I tried to get you to work for Wolfram and Hart?"

Abby didn't accept her hand, and Lilah lowered it. "If you're here to try and hire me again-"

"No, that's not why she's here." McGee interrupted. _She tried to hire Abby? I know she gets offers from scientific firms and other agencies...although I guess it makes sense that a Law Firm would want to have an in-house forensic expert to challenge the prosecution..._ "You tried to hire her away from NCIS?"

"Blame my boss." Lilah said, holding up a hand as if defensively "I was given the assignment, I did my best. Fortunately, they'd already reduced headcount that week, so I got to live through my failure. But I don't work for Wolfram and Hart anymore, so its a moot point anyway."

"Then why are you here?" Abby demanded.

"She's here to take over our case. Lance Corporal Montroy – apparently, he somehow falls under the jurisdiction of the IWC."

"The what? How can some agency I've never heard of come in and just take _our_ case!?"

"If you haven't heard of us, you aren't cleared to know what we do." Lilah replied, smirking. "And no, I'm not here to 'take' your case. As my partner and I explained to Agency Gibbs upstairs, the IWC is experiencing some...personnel issues-"

"Your headquarters blew up a few months ago and your members kept turning up dead." Ziva said from the doorway. "You have powerful enemies."

"Like I said, personnel issues." Lilah replied. Then she dropped her smirk. "As to our enemies: You have no idea. They make your half-brother look like an amateur chump by comparison." Her smirk came back as she saw the slight taken aback expression on Ziva's face as she mentioned Ari. "Like Wesley told Agent Gibbs, we're the IWC. We know everthing." She turned back to Abby. "Look, as I was trying to say before Officer David interrupted me, the IWC is short staffed, and so we're going to be working with your team on this case, rather than just taking it over wholesale. Its our case, yes, but as long as you make sure to follow our lead, everything will be fine."

Then, "Anyway, now that that is out of the way, let's get to what you've found out about the body. What's the forensic evidence you have?" Abbey glared at her for another moment. "Yes, I know, you can kill me without leaving any forensic evidence."

For some reason, Lilah's deadpan delivery of Abbey's patented threat actually seemed to perk the goth back up. "Good. So long as we're clear on that." She started to go into the details on the evidence. "I ran our victim's blood, and while it had alcohol in it, he definitely could have drived and wasn't incapacitated beyond maybe the slightest bit tipsy, depending on how well he could hold his liquor. A couple of drinks, at most. I'm running the fingerprints we pulled off of his arm right now-"

She was interrupted by a 'ding' from the fingerprint matching program. Abby bounded the two steps over to it. "The fingerprints belong to Albert Thornton. PFC in Montroy's unit. Went MIA, presume AWOL in Iraq seven months ago, while they were based near Kirkuk."

"And apparently back in the states." Ziva said. "Were it not for the carvings in Lance Corporal Montroy's forehead, the obvious conclusion would be that Montroy saw Thornton, and Thornton didn't want the marines to know where he was."

"Ancient Assyria was what is now Northern Iraq." Lilah pointed out. "Its entirely possible the two are linked. Or it could be a co-incidence that this Thornton and your marine were in contact the fact he died. What about the carvings in his head? Where they done before or after he died?"

"After his death." Abby said. "Not enough blood. Most of it came out when he got his throat torn out."

"From what I saw of the crime scene photos, had to be a body dump, unless I missed one?"

"Well, there wasn't any blood around the body at the scene, but it was an odd place to dump a body."

McGee's phone rang, and he picked it up, then, quick conversation later, "Bolo came out on Lance Corporal Montroy's car." He explained, hanging up. He gave them the address.

"Anything else, then?" Lilah asked Abbey, "Or are we good to get the victim's car?"

Abbey shook her head. "Not really. There's something weird on what's left of Montroy's neck that I'm running, but I don't have anything on it. Came up as weird in the blood. But Major Mass Spec has decided that he's not going to cooperate. A mutiny which cannot be tolerated."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Not mine

**Author's Note:** Yes, incredibly short and very delayed. Tbh, I'm having a mild case of writers block with this story. I know the plot and arc, just not how to put it well on paper. I'm probably going to put it to the side – though the Dead Man Walking Series will still happen – I'll essentially write past it, and come back around to this later. No decision has been made officially, though.

Dead Man Walking in D.C.

By Alkeni

Chapter 4: Baseline Answers

Wesley walked beside Agent Gibbs as they went up the stairs to level where the conference room where Montroy's fiancee awaited them. Without pausing, Wesley asked, "What's the fiancee's name again?"

"I thought the IWC knew everything." Gibbs said. "You tell me."

"The IWC knows everything, but I admit I spent more time studying up on the Blood King and you and your team than the specific particulars of your dead marine's life."

"His name is Lance Corporal Joseph Montroy-"

"He's the victim, Agent Gibbs." Wesley interrupted cooly. "A case to be solved. Nothing more, nothing less. If you want to think of him as more than that, you're more than welcome to. I'm not interested, however. The fiancee's name?"

"Emily Larson." Gibbs answered. Wesley could imagine the wheels that were turning in the former marine's head. Wesley didn't really find himself caring, however. His time at Angel Investigations – and after – had proven the folly of attachment to the case in any sense. Gibbs, though, seemed to take every case personally, judging both from his file and his reactions here. Every murder that happened on his watch – a personal affront. Came from his wife and child, he imagined.

"Are you going to let me ask the questions, or are you going to take that part of my job as well?" Gibbs asked once they reached the upper landing.

Wesley made as if pondering the question deeply, only answering once the reached the conference room door. "No. I don't think I'll take that part over. You can take the lead, but I'll probably ask a few questions at some point."

Gibbs glared at him. "What is this all about? What does the IWC want with this case? And don't give me some fairy tale about ancient Assyrian cults and demons."

"I've given you all the information that I am inclined to give you, Agent Gibbs." Wesley replied. "The IWC handles cases that fall under its area of interest, and your government, like most world governments, has seen fit to allow the IWC a free hand to deal with those cases as it sees fit."

"How exactly does that work, then?" Gibbs demanded. "You just get to waltz in and claim a case – under what exact authority?"

"We don't just waltz in." Wesley said. "First of all, the waltz is a highly overrated dance, and secondly, its a little more time-intensive than that. I'm not familiar with the specific details, but it is something along the lines of my superiors in the IWC calling a specific liaison within the United States Federal Government, then that person calling the President, then the President calling your boss. And then I arrive to make your life more difficult."

Gibbs didn't deign to respond to that, and just opened the door.

Wesley had to admire the skull with which Agent Gibbs handled Emily Larson. The woman had just found out that her husband was dead, and now she had to deal with questions...

After a few minutes of careful treading and handling, Gibbs asked. "Do you know what your husband was doing in that alley that night? Or where he was supposed to be?"

Emily shook her head, slowly, voice soft. "I...I don't know...He was supposed to be...he was going out for a few drinks, hang out with an old High School friend of his..."

"Who?" Gibbs asked.

"Richard Dawes...he's studying law at Georgetown. They've known eachother -" she paused, then corrected herself. "They knew...eachother...for...years..." her voice trailed off a moment, and she wiped her eyes as fresh tears formed in them. After a minute, she continued. "Since Joseph was back in the states...and on leave, they decided to get together. Hang out for a bit."

"Do you know where they were headed? Where they were going to be?"

Nodding, Emily gave the name and address of the bar where they'd planned to meet. Gibbs wrote them down. He'd send his team over to the bar to look into it as soon as he was done in here. Well, Tony and Ziva, anyway, and probably either Wyndam-Pryce or Morgan would decide to come along and interfere there too.

McGee, though, and Abby, were going to be putting their abilities to work finding out more about the IWC, and both people they sent here, on this case. What they _really_ wanted.

_And if the two of them aren't sleeping together, I'll hand in my badge and gun._ There was nothing obvious about it, he'd grant, but, then, Gibbs wasn't a trained investigator for nothing. They didn't really seem to be actively hiding it, either. Which presumably meant that their superiors in the IWC knew about it, or else they'd be hiding it better out of habit. Which said that the IWC didn't care about such things, or was turning a blind eye to capable operatives sleeping together to avoid losing them. Gibbs didn't have enough to work with the make further inferences about the organization's views on the subject. Or really, much about the organization at all. Ziva had said that the IWC didn't like to use guns, but according to the security people that had found themselves ordered to let them through, both IWC agents had two handguns and...some kind of weird metal thing around their lower right arms. If he was right, looking them over, they were some kind of collapsible swords. Flick your wrist the right way, and there you go, sword in the hand.

Which made absolutely no sense at all...

Gibbs' thoughts were brought to a screeching halt by Wyndam-Pryce asking Emily Larson questions.

"I know these questions are going to see strange, perhaps even offensive. But they needed to be asked." He pulled a photo of the dead Lance Corporal out of his coat and laid it on the table before the woman. She turned her eyes away. "Miss Larson, I need you to look at this picture." He didn't, fortunately, have to reach over and force her, physically, to look. He tapped his finger on the marks on Montroy's head. "Have you _ever_ seen anything like these marks. Ever?"

"No." Emily said firmly. "Never. What kind of sick bastard does that...carves on Joseph's dead body like that?"

_A fanatic. _He rattled off three words in Assyrian. 'Blood King' – a one word name, in that language and 'Dragon of Assyria'.

"No." Her voice was louder, just a touch.

"Did your fiance have any interest in the occult? Do you? Do you _know_ anyone with an interest in the occult? Did he?"

"No! No! No! Dammit! No!" She nearly shouted at him, tears in her eyes. "What the hell are you asking for? What does _any_ of this have to do with Joesph's death!?"

"Everything." Wesley said. He put the picture in his coat again and left the conference room. "Let's go see this Dawes, Agent Gibbs."


End file.
